


Try Again

by amandaterasu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-08 17:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaterasu/pseuds/amandaterasu
Summary: Based off a thing @campdragonhead posted on her twitter. I'm out for blood, hehehe





	1. She Saw A Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> For now this is a one-shot, but if I ever get the inclination, I might expand it with some smut. IDK.

He was having that dream again.

He was running side by side with the Viis, her cheeks flushed from something, and he glanced over his shoulder. He saw the figure on the parapet raise its hand, and a glowing shaft of light appeared. It took aim, it loosed, and he stepped aside, raising his shield, only one thought in his mind.

_Not her._

* * *

Haurchefant rubbed his face, glancing out the small, slitted window of his room at Fort Jobb. That dream always woke him up from a dead sleep, regardless of the hour, and the twinkling stars told him he could roll over and return to its warm embrace. But he knew he’d only fall back into the darkness with her, wake up with her name just on the tip of his tongue, but be unable to remember, and unable to forget. 

Who was that Viis? He’d only met a few of them, and none looked remotely like her. Haurchefant had once asked Lyna about her, but she only shrugged - she’d never met anyone that matched the description - ash brown hair, pale eyes, and a heart shape face that blushed too easily.

He grabbed his sword and headed out to the yard. Thoughts of _her_ always frustrated him, made him angry and sad and hopeful and lonely. So very lonely.

* * *

A few hours later, Haurchefant was patting down the amaro, lost in thought, when a familiar voice said, “Captain?”

“Exarch,” He began, turning to his old friend, only to freeze. _She_ stood beside the robed figure, and she began to tear up the moment they made eye contact. Confusion rippled through him. A thousand questions that only begat a thousand more. How had he known her face, down to the last detail? How? HOW? _HOW?_

“Do I know you from somewhere?” It was the only question that made logical sense to him. Maybe he’d forgotten something important, and the Exarch ahd brought her. Her reaction to meeting him - maybe they had met long ago, and he had forgotten her just enough to lose her name, but not her face.

“Yes,” she choked out, shaking and pale like she’d seen a ghost. “In another life.” Maybe she had.

They stand there awkwardly for a few minutes, before he glances to the Exarch, who looked every inch the couerl who caught the canary. “I’ll let them know you’re taking a short leave of absence, hmm?”

“R-right…” he said slowly. Somehow, he knew he was the last Amaro to finish the race, but he turned back to the Viis, and asked, “Can I take you to the Wandering Stairs? For a drink?”

She nodded, and then was in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. She kept repeating his name. Haurchefant. Haurchefant. Haurchefant. Like it was a mantra or prayer, rather than a strange name given to a strange child by a strange exarch almost thirty-five years ago.

* * *

“Here,” he said, and set the mug down in front of her. “Hot chocolate. You look like you need it.” He smiled, but she started to tear up again. “Do… you not like hot chocolate? I can get you something -”

“It’s perfect,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Sorry… I’m sorry. G’raha - the Exarch - he didn’t warn me.”

“Didn’t warn you about what?” Haurchefant raised an eyebrow. She had been simultaneously weepy and elated, touching him as if they’d been… close, yet at other times afraid to touch him, as if he were made of glass.

“That he’d be introducing me to you. That you’d be _here_.”

“So we have met before, like you said. Could you give me some details?” He smiled and sipped his hot chocolate.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Haurchefant laughed. “After the last few months? The Warrior of Darkness coming, bringing back the night, fighting against the sin eaters, slaying the Lightwardens, all that? I’d believe anything.”

“Really?” She leaned forward on her hand, staring into his eyes. “Anything?”

“I mean, I’ll still probably ask the Exarch about -”

“Lady Rynn,” Captain Lyna approached, speaking to his companion. _Rynn,_ he thought, committing the name to memory. _Her name is Rynn._ “How did things go today with your -” The Captain glanced over, saw him, and her eyes went wide. “Haurchefant?” She looked between the two of them, then put her hand to her lips. “Ash-brown hair, pale eyes… Haurchefant, you’ve been looking for her as long as I’ve known you!”

It was his turn to blush, and the other Viis - _Rynn_, he reminded himself - started crying again. “She’s been doing that all day. Hard to have a conversation.” He chuckled, waving it off. “I’m hopeful she’ll be a little calmer after a hot drink and we can talk.”

Lyna shook her head. “For this conversation, you’ll need something stronger than chocolate.” She waved down a waitress, and a moment later, the Viis Captain put a bottle of peppermint schnapps on the table. “Your tab is on me tonight. And Haurchefant?”

He looked up at his friend, whom he trusted almost as much as anyone now living. “Yes?”

“Everything she tells you is the truth. No matter how hard it will be for you to believe.” Lyna winked, and walked away.

With a perplexed frown, he took the bottle of schnapps and poured a shot into his hot chocolate, then held the open bottle, slightly tilted, over her mug as well. “Want some? It might help your nerves.”

Rynn nodded mutely, and he poured a healthy shot for her as well, then set the bottle aside and took a sip. He watched as she did as well, her ears folding back slightly, making her earrings chime.

After she set down her mug and wiped her eyes, he smiled again. “It’s nice to finally know your name, Rynn.” 

She blushed. “How did you end up with the name Haurchefant? You shouldn’t - it shouldn’t…”

“The Exarch named me when I was born.” He shrugged. “My parents were in the Crystarium, and he just… showed up. Said he was expecting me. Told them I was Haurchefant. He’s done so much, no one would gainsay him naming one child,” The Elf laughed. “So… that’s it. Not very exciting. May I ask why you find it odd?”

Rynn took a long, steadying breath. “I think you’re the reincarnation of my late husband.”

“What?” He laughed. _I dream about her every night._

“R-really. His name was Haurchefant Greystone, and you look almost exactly like him - just a little older, a few more scars…” Without warning, she reached across the table, brushing her fingers over the tiny scars on his face. “But the resemblance…” She swallowed. “He died almost a century ago by your reckoning.”

* * *

They had spent hours together, talking about Rynn’s Haurchefant, and his life. Too much matched up for her to be lying, and as he carried her back to her room in the Pendants, much too inebriated from schnapps, and wine, and ale, he realized there had been a Rynn-shaped hole in his life from the beginning. It was all too convenient, like the grand design of some all-too powerful god.

The night attendant lead him to her room, and unlocked the door, which he pulled shut behind them both, careful not to clip her ears in the doorframe. 

Haurchefant laid her in the bed, and took a moment to unlace her boots and pull them off. He wasn’t comfortable undressing her completely, but he could at least -

“No,” she mumbled, and he saw tears tracking their way down her face. “Haurchefant…”

“Yes?” he asked, but she didn’t respond to his question, only rolled her head to the side, sweat breaking out across her brow.

“Shield… broken…” He realized then she was having a nightmare, the counterpoint to his dream, and leaned down, shaking her awake. 

“Rynn. Rynn!” He gently shook her shoulders, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Haurchefant!” She said in her drunken, sleepy state, and threw her arms around him, clutching him tightly. “I dreamed you’d died. I dreamed- I dreamed…” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “It wasn’t a dream.” Rynn whispered. “It was my worst memory.”

“I died then, didn’t I?” He asked quietly. “I dream it, too. The two of us running down a long, endless walkway in the sun. The man with the spear of light.” He felt her nod, her hair brushing his cheek, her earrings chiming above his head. Haurchefant took a steadying breath. “I don’t know much about who I was before. I don’t remember that life at all. I don’t think I am, or can be, that Haurchefant. But, I can promise you - Whatever part of him is still in me is so very, very glad that you survived. And I am glad, too. I’m glad I got to meet you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rynn whispered, her breath on his ear. “I’ve just been dumping all this on you.”

“It’s all right.” Haurchefant laughed. “The Exarch was a bit cruel, dropping you in front of me then fucking off to wherever he goes when he wants to gloat.” He kissed her cheek, softly. “But I’m glad he did.”

“Will you stay?” She said, and he knew what she was offering, what she was asking. One more night with her dead husband. 

Haurchefant thought about it for a few minutes, then shook his head. “No. I can’t…” He swallowed, and pulled away, catching her chin with his finger and lifting her face to his. “I can’t be _him_, Rynn. We might share a name, a soul, and a face, but we are not the same man.” Her eyes fluttered shut, and she nodded.

“But…” He continued. “If you’d like to try again, with me, I think we can pick up some of the pieces, and use those to build something new.”

Haurchefant pressed his lips to the Viis’s, and Rynn responded, putting her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. “We can try again,” she whispered.


	2. Nightfall, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Greystone decides it's time to make things official with Rynn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute little chapter as a warm-up!

Captain Greystone nodded to Lyna as he entered the Crystarium gates. She gave him a friendly wave, and walked over. “Back so soon?” The Viis gave him a teasing grin. 

“Is she here?” He didn’t need to specify. For the past few months he had made a regular habit of stopping in the city on his days off, checking to see if Rynn was visiting from that strange world - ‘the Source’, as she called it - that she called home. When she was, they would often go out for drinks, and exchange a few furtive kisses, but everything between them was strange, both novel and nostalgic, so they had decided to take things slowly.

However, Nightfall was approaching, and the Exarch had given his assent to it being an official holiday and festival, with tournaments and feasting, and most excitingly: fireworks, which he’d only read about, but never seen. From his reading, one traditionally went _with_ someone to these things, and he hoped to make whatever was blossoming between them a bit more official.

Lyna pulled him from his reverie with a chuckle at his obvious excitement. “She’s with the Exarch now. I’m sure if you linger around the Exedra, you’ll see her soon enough.” The two guards grasped each other’s forearms - a common sign amongst their organization of friendship and camaraderie - then he proceeded inside.

Sure enough, as he leaned against the wall near the steps inside, he heard the crystalline doors creak open, and he looked up to see Rynn checking her satchel and glance up, looking for _something_ in the mulling crowds. She was beautiful when she forgot herself, relaxed and graceful, like a feather caught in a sea breeze. 

He was more than a little gratified when her gaze settled on him, and her face instantly broke into a dazzling smile. Rynn skipped down the steps two at a time, making a beeline for him.

“Haurchefant!” she cried, and threw herself into his arms. “I was hoping you’d be off today. I missed you!”

The Captain grinned and kissed her forehead. “I missed you too, Rynn. I’m glad you’re here.” He buried his face in her hair, enjoying the feeling of her long Viis ear brushing gently against his cheek. “I have something I want to ask you.”

She pulled away from him a little, and tilted her head up to look him in the eye. “Oh?”

Haurchefant blushed a little. “You know they’re planning a festival soon - Nightfall. To celebrate the anniversary of the Warrior of Darkness bringing back the night for good?”

Rynn’s eyes flickered with confusion a moment, then sudden, deep amusement. “I’d heard of it, yes. Why?”

“Well, I’ve heard rumors that she’s going to be there, and I’ve never met her, so I was planning to go…” Why did his courage suddenly fail him now? Haurchefant took a steadying breath. He had faced worse things than the woman of his literal dreams. “I was wondering if you’d go with me - as my date.”

Her smile widened. “I promised the Exarch I’d help out with a few things, but if you can stand my occasional absences that night, I’d love to.”

“Good,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Dinner, tonight? I have some errands to run.”

Rynn squeezed his hand. “Meet me at sunset?”

“Like I’d be anywhere else.”

* * *

Haurchefant ran his hands through his hair. The Festival was supposed to open at sundown tonight, and last all through the night, with tournaments the next day, and a large fireworks display just after sunset the next evening. He checked one last time that he had everything in order for the evening, then knocked lightly on Rynn’s door.

When she opened it, the sight of her fair took his breath away. Rynn was wearing a thin silk and organza dress that fluttered in the slight puff of air from the movement of the door. She looked like springtime, with all its promises of new beginnings and idyllic times ahead. Her playful smile, wrinkling the bridge of her nose, made his heart stutter in his chest for a moment. 

“Hello, Haurchefant,” she said, leaning on the doorframe and letting her eyes rake over him. He suddenly felt the fool for not wearing his armor - just comfortable clothes and his red cloak, marking him as a member of the guard.

“Rynn,” he breathed, then held out the item he’d brought, a crown of flowers - twisted cherry branches in bloom for her beauty, honeysuckle for his affection, and purple lilacs, for the love that was beginning between them. “I… thought you might…” He started to blush. Maybe he had gone too far? She still mourned the other Haurchefant, whose ghost lurked between them sometimes when he kissed her. Maybe she was not ready for this. Maybe she -

His spiralling thoughts stilled as she placed her hands on his. “Aren’t you going to put it on me?” With infinite tenderness, he did as she asked, sliding it around outside her ears, until it settled just beneath them and around her brow. She flicked her ears a few times, and he almost thought she’d figured him out, that he liked the way their soft, downy fur felt against his skin. 

Still, once it was settled, he offered his arm. “The opening speeches are about to begin. Shall we?”

Rynn nodded, and took his arm. “I do have to help the Exarch,” she was grinning again, like she was about to tell him a fantastic joke, “but I convinced him to let me put you in the front row, since you’ve never met the Warrior of Darkness.”

“Have you?” Haurchefant asked, tilting his head.

“I know her rather well, actually.” Her grin widened. “You could say we’re close.”

“Oh?” He paused. “Wait, were you one of her travelling companions? You are from that other world, aren’t you!” He seemed excited. “I’d heard she travelled with a group, let’s see if I remember...”

“Don’t bother, Haurchefant.” Rynn stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “We’re here.” 

He glanced up in surprise to see she was right. A small stage had been set up just in front of the Exarch’s tower for speeches, with a number of people clustered behind it. She took him up towards the stage, just a few feet from it, and kissed his hand. “I have to go help, but I’ll come get you after?”

Haurchefant nodded, and leaned down, kissing her properly on the lips. “Can’t wait.” His eyes followed her as she slipped around the stage to the group, and began speaking to them animatedly, then pointed to him. One by one they looked his way, but he noticed the teenager in blue, possibly half of a pair of twins, given the near-identical child in red beside him, had that same haunted look she’d had at their first meeting. 

_Maybe that’s the Warrior of Darkness? If they’re as close as Rynn implied, she probably met the other Haurchefant._ He felt a little queasy in his stomach at the thought of his past life. While he was glad it had lead Rynn to him, he sometimes worried he was just a warm body to her, filling in for a dead man. 

He wouldn’t be the first soldier to take up that way with a war widow. Some even felt it their duty, taking up their fallen brother’s responsibilities. But he couldn’t treat her like chattel, like a burden, and he deserved to be loved for himself. He sighed drearily. Nothing to do but try, and see what happens.

A scraping noise brought his attention, and he saw the Exarch was climbing the stairs to the stage, his hood pushed back to reveal his Mystel features. Slowly, the crowd grew quiet, and the strange man who had become their leader gave them all a benevolent smile.

“My Friends,” the Exarch began. “Long ago, when I came amongst you, it was with but one task - to see darkness return to the first, and end the Tyranny of Light. It was a long, arduous journey, that lasted near a century. Many and more were lost to us - through the Flood, through sin eater attacks, and through the petty causality of a world imbalanced. I would like to begin this night with a moment of silence for all those who perished to the Light, and its effects, and those who gave their lives that we might all see the moon rise once again.”

As one, the crowd became deathly quiet, save the distant cry of an infant in someone’s arms. Haurchefant let his mind linger on his departed friends and family members, but hoped that maybe they had found the same type of rebirth he apparently had. 

He thought about his father, who had put a sword in his hand and taught him to use it, and the day when his father had been struck by a sin eater - not to die, but to turn, and had begged his Haurchefant to use that sword on him, to end his suffering there, rather than waiting for a slow death in Amh Araeng.

He thought about his friends, dead in the various sin eater attacks over the years, especially those lost in Holminster Switch and the Eulmoran attack on Lakeland. He and Lyna had shared a night of grief, but nothing else - he knew her heart was elsewhere, with the Mystel on the stage, and his own heart with a woman he hadn’t known he loved yet.

The Exarch inhaled, and the soft sound caused the crowd to look up. “But our dead would not want us to wallow in grief. They did not give their lives for us to mourn, but so that we might live. That we might greet each sunset with relief, and each night with joy - for we have triumphed over the Light, and brought back Darkness. They do not want our tears, but our laughter, and with this festival, we have resolved to give it to them.”

Smiling, the Exarch winked at Haurchefant. “But I would be remiss if I did not raise one up above the others - one hero who shines so brightly that the very stars weep in jealousy. One hero, who fulfilled a thousand prophecies at once. My friends, I give you the woman of the hour, who requires no introduction: the Warrior of Darkness!”

Cheering erupted from the assembled crowd, but Haurchefant was still, his jaw slack, as Rynn stepped onto the stage, and blew him a kiss.


	3. Nightfall, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haurchefant recounts a memory for Rynn.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Haurchefant ran a hand through his long, pale hair. “Wicked White, Rynn, I must have sounded the fool.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you didn’t know until you asked me to join you for the festival.” 

They strode through the stalls of the festival market, arm-in-arm, and though he was still a little put out, he was too elated to be with her to be too seriously angry. The fact that she was the Warrior of Darkness was just another dimension to his enigmatic companion. It was over a shared bowl of beef stew that he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me when it became clear I didn’t know?”

Rynn sucked idly on her spoon for a moment. “It was nice to know you liked me for me, not because I was a famous warrior who saved the world.” She looked away, towards the crowd. “I never knew for sure, with him.”

“He knew you were the Warrior of Darkness?” 

She shook her head. “The Warrior of Light, as I’m called on the Source. But we didn’t have the flood of Light, so it doesn’t have the same connotation. But yes, he knew I was a famous warrior who had saved the world from Primals - our version of Lightwardens, I guess. It’s complicated.”

“I see.” He grinned widely. “But I didn’t know, and you liked that?”

“Yes, well…” Rynn blushed. “I don’t mind that you do know, now. You’ve made it very clear that you’re interested in me for more than just… ‘being the Warrior of Darkness.’” She sighed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I didn’t intend to keep it a secret for so long - I just didn’t realize that you didn’t know. And it felt really good, once I did know, that you were kissing me and talking to me without knowing. That you saw _me_ first. And wanted me.” She took another spoonful of the stew and put it in her mouth, her cheeks coloring.

Haurchefant reached across the space between them and brushed his hand along her neck, up into the hair at the nape of her neck. “Can I convince you to dance with me?” He tilted his head toward the center of the Exedra, where musicians were playing, and various people had begun dancing, celebrating the peace that she had brought.

Rynn swallowed. “Only you can.”

Moments later, she was in his arms, moving with him across the stones of the plaza. He was pleased, deliciously pleased, to have found something he had over the other Haurchefant, and he was struck with a desire to find other differences - other ways to remind himself that she wanted _him_, specifically. Over the top of her head, he saw her friends, the three elves, the two humes, the mystels, both the Exarch and the strange woman, watching them. The young elf in blue, the same one he’d seen earlier, was whispering to the one in red. Soon the group was all whispering amongst themselves, and he rolled his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, looking up at him. 

With a quick step back, he turned them both, positioning her so she could see them. “Your friends were staring at us and whispering.”

Ryne giggled. “I’m not surprised. Alphinaud was shocked to see you.”

“Is that good or bad?” He loved watching her face, the way she was so expressive when she forgot she was being observed was endlessly entertaining.

She looked up at him. “Do you think I care?”

He laughed. “I take it you don’t.”

Shaking her head, Rynn said, “Not particularly. He’s always been overly involved in other people’s business.” Her smile was affectionate, though, which said more to the boy’s credit than anything else. 

Someone tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see Lyna, her face strained. Haurchefant and Rynn paused, but he didn’t take his hands from her. “What is it?”

“They’re going to do a drama.” Lyna said. “Of Rynn slaying the Lightwardens. I’ve warned the other guards.”

He felt the muscles in his jaw tense. “Thank you.” He looked back towards the Viis in his arms. “I need to be… somewhere else for a while. Do you want to come meet me after? I don’t want you to miss _your_ festival.”

“What’s wrong?” She looked at him in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“The wounds are still too fresh,” He replied, tapping the side of his head. “I don’t want to make a spectacle of myself.” Looking around, he could see other members of the guard quietly excusing themselves. “I… I have to go.” 

Haurchefant pressed one quick kiss to her lips, then pulled away, heading towards the barracks.

* * *

The door to his small cell in the barracks closed behind him and he groaned, pressing a hand to his face, letting his fingers trace the scars across his cheek, the rake of claw marks from a sin eater during the attack on Lakeland. Not deep enough to infect him, shadows be praised, but enough to leave a row of four wicked marks.

Someone tapped softly at his door, and a moment later, he heard Rynn’s voice. “Haurchefant?”

“S-Sorry,” he called. “I’ll be back in a bit. You go enjoy the festival.”

“I don’t want to,” she said, and he could hear the concern in her voice. “Please, Haurchefant. I’d rather be here with you.”

He groaned, but opened the door. Rynn stepped inside, and looked around. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“Didn’t have much choice,” he said, weakly, shutting the door behind her. “They’d never let me live it down if they knew I had the Warrior of Darkness knocking at my door and turned her away.” He grinned playfully, but the lines of concern on her face didn’t lessen. 

“What’s wrong?” Her question was fair, but difficult.

Haurchefant crossed to a small cabinet, and took off his cloak, putting it inside, then unlaced his boots and left them where they lie. “I don’t like thinking about sin eaters or Lightwardens or any of their ilk.”

“Understandable. They aren’t pleasant memories for me, either.”

“Yes, but you actually _saved_ people.” His voice was acerbic. “I’m sorry. It was… a bad night.”

He heard the soft groan of furniture, and looked to find her sitting on his bed. She patted the space beside her. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s not a pleasant story, I’m afraid.” He still sat, and watched her warily.

Rynn reached behind his head, and tugged the little strip of leather he used to tie his hair back, letting it fall around them both in soft waves. She crawled into his lap, and he put his arms around her, burying his face in her neck as she ran her fingers through it, from roots to ends, letting his hair, his one concession to vanity, fall around them both.

When she spoke, her voice was soft. 

“Tell me anyway.”

* * *

Haurchefant had been Second Lieutenant Greystone the night the Eulmorans attacked. He had gone to defend Fort Jobb with the other members of his unit, beset by sin eaters on all sides. He remembered the rain, the way it pounded down on them all, making everything cold and uncomfortable.

They held out as long as they could, but he watched as his comrades began to fall, one by one, their eyes unseeing as they lay amongst the blood spattered lavender flowers that covered the ground. 

Lightning struck, and he saw it, the flying shape above him, claws and talons and then a single swipe, and the right half of his face was a riot of pain - blood flowing freely from the wounds, mixing with the falling rain, staining his hair, his clothes, his armor, the faces of his friends, open-eyed and unseeing on the ground.

He wanted to die, then. He rushed the creature, swinging wildly, letting his sword cleave off one of its legs, trying to goad it into finishing him. But his third swipe was too lucky, and he caught it just below one arm, cleaving three-quarters of the way through its chest before the resistance was too much for him to keep cutting. It fell, his sword still stuck fast, and he was forced to place a boot on its face to get enough leverage to wrench his weapon free.

He wondered who it had been, before it had been turned.

Suddenly, they began to fly away, all of them, even some of his fallen compatriots, their bodies changing into the enemy as easily as he changed clothes. Then they were gone, and he was alone.

His commander gave him a battlefield promotion, made him captain - after all, his captain was dead.

The healers in the Spagyrics had stitched his face, but it had not healed cleanly, leaving wicked scars from the encounter, a reminder every morning of how high the cost of failure was - his face was marred, but he was still the _lucky_ one.

* * *

When Haurchefant finished his tale, Rynn was cradling him gently, her arms around his shoulders, her lips at his ear. She murmured nothingness, just soft, soothing sounds, stroking his hair.

He looked into her heart-shaped face and smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry to say I’m not the shining hero you might think me to be.”

Rynn’s smile was warm, and she cupped his face in her hand, letting her thumb trace the long path of his scars. “You survived. That’s all that matters to me.”

He kissed her then, desperately in need of her warmth and comfort, and pushed her down onto the bed beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter Will be SMUT.


	4. Nightfall [EX]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than usual, soft smut chapter.

Somewhere in the distance, Haurchefant could hear music, but he didn’t care. Rynn’s arms were around him, her lips were on his, and he needed her. Too many dark memories crowded at his mind - the cost of a war against a foe that couldn’t truly die. The remainder of a lifetime of death and trauma, the broken pieces left over once the world was saved. It fell to he, and the other warriors without a war, to carry that burden until they found their own ends, to let the horrors of that century die with them.

He didn’t feel like he deserved this joy, this warm woman beneath him, after all the death and blood he had tried and failed to prevent. His victories were small, mere survival, while hers were monumental - an end to the slow destruction of everything he’d ever known.

Yet she was here, and she was willing, and he was too tired, after everything, to convince himself he did not deserve it.

Rynn’s gasps echoed off the stone walls of his cell as his lips moved to her jaw, tracing it’s delicate lines with brushing kisses while his hands twisted in her hair, threading past the crown of flowers to scratch gently at the base of her ears.

“Would you hate me if I had you tonight, Rynn?” he whispered. “I need it.”

She turned and pressed her forehead to his, the tips of their noses touching. “Why do you think I’m here?” She ducked her head, letting his fingers wrapped about the flower crown pull it off her head, scattering loose petals around them both, only to be joined shortly after by their clothes.

He kissed cherry petals from her breasts, smeared honeysuckle pollen across her stomach, and brushed lilacs from her thighs as he pushed his way into her, tears springing to his eyes as he let himself forget. There was only this room, only this bed, only these few flowers, only Rynn, and her welcoming, forgiving embrace.

Her lips traced every scar on his body, as if through adoration she could free him from the horrors of the past, and he whimpered at every caress. Then she was atop him, riding him, her fingernails digging into his chest for purchase. It was a pain he welcomed gladly - a pain born of nothing but the domestic realities of love, rather than the atrocities of the struggle between gods.

Rynn’s orgasm took his breath away, and he watched in wonder as every muscle in her body tensed, her soft curves going rigid with barely hidden muscles - the evidence that the woman having her way with him was just as much a warrior as he. She started to sway weakly, and he braced himself, sitting up. He let her collapse against his chest as he grabbed her hips, The tips of his fingers brushing the edges of her tail as he pulled her down onto him until he found his own release.

She stayed there, straddling him, for a long time, then their lips met. The kiss was warm and gentle, and he knew he wasn’t being poetic when he said he loved her. Her cheeks were pink when their lips parted, but he was entranced by the tiny thread of saliva that still connected them, so he kissed her again, ignoring the tears that streaked down both their faces.

In the quiet of his cell, they lay tangled up, listening to each other’s soft breathing, their fingers gently exploring. After a few moments, Haurchefant chuckled. He was going to ask a question he didn’t want the answer to.

“Was it the same?”

Rynn’s ear flicked, and she shook her head. “No, you two are too different for it to be.”

“How are we different?” He needed to hear this. He needed to know.

She tucked her head under his chin, her ears pressed against the curve of the side of his face, and he smiled while she spoke.

“He was younger.” She swallowed. “He was only twenty-eight when he passed. He still had all the eager naivete of youth. We both did.” 

“It affected everything about our marriage. We were both young idiots in love. He was too soft, too gentle. He was always afraid he’d hurt me.” She laughed at the absurdity. “Every time we made love, his first question was ‘Did I hurt you?’”

“But you are not. You’re not afraid of loving me with strength and confidence.” She traced the muscles of his arm with the tips of her fingers, sending shivers down his arm. “It’s like you said. You share a name, and a face, and a soul - but that’s it. You are two different men, and I love you both differently. But he is dead, and you are not.”

Rynn’s eyes met his, and they were filled with tears - desperate, grateful tears. “I’m so glad you are not.”

Haurchefant thought on everything that had happened in his life. All the tragedy, and pressed a hand to her cheek, letting his thumb catch the tears that slid down its gentle curves. “So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter - Tournament(s)?


End file.
